


Fabric

by TheSingingHoneybee



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: AU, Ben is sentimental, Confessions, F/M, Fluff, I don't know what this started out as but it is fluff now, I just had to write this scene, Kisses, Nudity, Present Tense, but is it a post redemption AU or a modern AU, counting kisses, we may never know . . .
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7520248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSingingHoneybee/pseuds/TheSingingHoneybee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The removal of clothes is such a beautiful process, but not one you consider often."</p>
<p>Ben's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fabric

**Author's Note:**

> I may have blown off Chinese homework for this, so you had better enjoy. 'Cause I am sitting in a Chinese dorm room writing reylo fluff instead of studying. 晚安！

The removal of clothes is such a beautiful process, but not one you consider often. As the soft fabric slides from her shoulders, catching first on her elbows before being pulled off altogether, Ben considers this beauty.  
  
Rey hangs the shirt on a hanger and carefully buttons the second to top button so that it won’t fall back off.  
  
He watches her fingers as they work and watches the fabric as it wrinkles and folds. His own fingers itch to assist in the process, to speed it up or slow it down—he isn’t sure which—and they twitch slightly as her fingers slid beneath the waistband of her skirt.  
  
She slides her fingers to either side of her hips before lifting the fabric slightly to allow for the change of width between her waist and hips before she slides it down over her thighs. At mid-thigh, she drops the left side—her left, not his—and steps out of the circle of fabric. The care she took to ensure the shirt didn’t wrinkle is not extended to the skirt. That she lets flutter to the ground to meet the jeans and t-shirt that she had already taken from him.  
  
Her bra is next. She pops the hooks in the back rolling her shoulder so that the straps slide. She catches the straps on her wrists, stopping the garment’s downward descent. Rey places it carefully on the bedside table.  
  
Her eyes, dark and lovely, meet his for the first time in several long minutes and Ben realizes he has been holding his breath.  
  
He breathes.  
  
She smiles at him.  
  
He doesn’t breathe.  
  
She runs her palms up his forearms and shoulders and rests one on either side of his neck—he is sure she can feel his heart racing from where her fingers rest above the veins. Her perfume (orange blossoms and something else) surrounds him now that she is so close. This is beautiful too. And he shivers under her touch.  
  
“Cold?” she asks.  
  
Ben shakes his head. If anything he is burning. “No,” he manages after a second.  
  
Without taking his eyes off of hers, he places his hands on her sides. He rests them on her waist, in the dip between her hips and ribs. Her skin is soft.  
  
She merely hums in response before bending to place her lips on his. Oh, they had kissed before. Many times in fact (26—Ben counts) but somehow this time feels different.  
  
Ben gently tugs on her waist and she comes closer, but not close enough. He pulls away to move closer and Rey takes the opportunity to climb onto his lap. She plants a knee on either side of his thighs and kisses him again. He can feel her skin on his and his ears are roaring. Her palms hold his cheeks with a thumb near the outside corner of each eye.  
  
The first time Rey had kissed him, Ben had wanted to stop time. The second time he had wished the same. And as she kisses him now, with her body pressed as close to his as the angle will allow and with her left hand now combing through his hair and massaging at his scalp, he makes this wish again. He didn’t think he deserved the first kiss. He doesn’t feel worthy of this 28th.  
  
“Scoot back,” Rey says breaking the kiss but not pulling away. Her lips brush his as she speaks.  
  
He scoots as gracefully as possible, which is to say not gracefully at all.  
  
She laughs at him and reaches out to touch his chest. It takes hardly any strength at all to send him toppling onto his back. She leans over him with a hand on his stomach and seems to consider him for a moment.  
  
“How far are we going with this?” She asks. Her eyes meet his for a second before skittering down his body.  
  
Ben hadn’t thought he’d get this far. She was the prodigy, he the prodigal son. In no sane reality did he end up on his back on a bed with her leaning over him mostly naked and radiant.  
  
But he knows how far he wants to go.  
  
He needs to say something romantic. Something smooth.  
  
“I want to make love to you.”  
  
Rey laughs. So much for smooth.  
  
“Do you love me, Ben?” She asks.  
  
“Yes.” The answer is immediate—almost involuntary.  
  
Rey’s laughter dies instantly and her eyes go wide.  
  
He tries to sit up afraid that he has blundered, but she places a hand above his heart to hold him down.  
  
“Me too.” She is blushing. Pink stains her cheeks and her throat. His eyes dip lower and the blush continues.  
  
“I’m glad you also love yourself,” he says, unable to keep the facetious comment from slipping out.  
  
“You know what I meant,” she says somehow managing to pout and smile at the same time.  
  
“Would you say it?” He asks meeting her eyes once more.  
  
She hesitates for a second. “I love you.”  
  
Ben’s heart is overflowing.  
  
He reaches out to place his fingers in the soft hair near her right ear and gently tugs her down into a kiss again.  
  
Twenty-nine.


End file.
